


PET // MILK

by Glossolalia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Plug, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Blow Jobs, Bottom Shiro, Bought Work, Cat Ears, Collars, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Master/Pet, Pet Play, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-09 00:40:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7780189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glossolalia/pseuds/Glossolalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Paladins make cat ears and Keith decides he likes them on Shiro.</p>
            </blockquote>





	PET // MILK

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, Mom.

**i.**

Sometimes, particularly after a mission that'd required an eye-to-eye with Death, the Paladins found themselves in a makeshift craft circle.

"I can't tell if this is healthy or if this is some kind of abstract form of psychotherapeutic artwork meant to deal with the fact we were groomed to be child soldiers. Like, are we trying to access the childhood we never had? What does this _mean_?" Hunk asked.

He wasn't sure if he _really_ wanted to know.

Pidge lifted their green cat ears. In less time than it took Lance and Keith to cut out their paper mockups, Pidge had managed to wire them with blinking green lights. They put them on and stared past Hunk's head, an eyebrow reaching for the ceiling.

"We're probably just dead inside."

"Yeah. Probably, but check it _out_ —" Hunk lifted his yellow cat ears and pulled a tiny lever on the side of the band. They began to move from side to side. "Imagine how many people would buy these back on Earth. Post-Paladin Retirement Plan, anyone?"

"I don't think we should be worrying about that yet," Shiro said from the side, leaned forward with his finger lit to magenta. He was carefully cutting his ears from a thin sheet of metal. Tongue bit between teeth, he'd been focused from the moment they sat down.

"Enjoying yourself?" Keith asked, watching Shiro.

Shiro heard the smile in Keith's voice and tried not to smile back. "What're you talking about?"

They glanced at one another and held the other's stare. Keith shoved his tongue to a molar and severed the eye contact to go back to his origami triangle. When he pulled it open, it was the perfect shape for a cat ear. He grabbed a brush and started to paint the fleshy canal a cartoonish pink, adding depth after deciding he didn't like the flat color.

"Hand me the laser cutter," Lance snapped at Keith. His ears were large and drawn out on a material similar to acrylic sheets.

Keith dryly did as told.

 _He's compensating for something_ , Keith thought to himself, but he glanced back to Shiro who was then welding his ears into a three-dimensional structure.

Shiro suddenly flopped onto his back with a grunt, the tiny sculpture hovered above his face. Forgetting they were in the presence of others, Keith reached out and brushed back the man's bangs, rubbing his fingers along a shaved side.  
  
Shiro didn't seem to notice.  
  


 

**ii.**

Unlike so many of their other projects, the cat ears became a mainstay.

Toothbrush hanging from his mouth, Keith stood slumped in the hallway before bed. He was actively avoiding the steam clouds rolling out of the Paladins' communal bathroom, the back of his neck already damp from the five seconds he'd spent squirting toothpaste.

Lance took showers so hot Hunk had once called them 'sacrilegious,' and Keith was certain said showers had something to do with the Blue Paladin's cognitive thought process or lack thereof. After all, he literally poached his brain cells once a day.

Keith heard oncoming footsteps.

Shiro was walking toward his bedroom. Usually, public acknowledgement between them didn't go beyond a quick smile and wave, maybe a wink if Shiro was sure he wouldn't get caught. Keith lifted his hand to sleepily gesture in greeting, but he halted.

It was the metallic glint on Shiro's head that prompted Keith to say something.

"Nice ears," Keith said through foam.

"What?" Shiro finally asked, stopping in mid-step.

Keith gestured at the top of his own head.

Shiro reached and touched his real ears. Behind them, he felt the band to his partial costume. Realizing, Shiro swiftly plucked the cat ears off his crown and cleared his throat. He subconsciously hid them behind his back as he squared his shoulders.

"We were wearing them while teaching Coran how to play poker. I forgot."

"Right," Keith said and tugged the bristles from between his lips. "One second."

He darted into the bathroom to spit and rinse. Keith returned refreshed, but the slight smile hadn't left his mouth. Crossing his arms, he leaned against the wall.

"You should keep them on."

Shiro's frown dropped low and drifted to the side. It was border lining a pout, but Shiro reeled himself in. "Bad joke."

"I'm not joking," he countered, sounding defensive. Keith glanced to the side to make sure Lance was still whistling in the bathroom. Certain they had a minute, he walked across the hall. Keith looked Shiro over as if sizing him up and stopped within a lean's kiss. "Put them back on."

"Keith." He said his name soft, like a warning.

"For five minutes," Keith tried again. He captured Shiro's chin with his thumb and forefinger.

Shiro opened his mouth to protest, but Keith dragged the pad of his thumb along his bottom lip, effectively keeping the man's attention. Shiro flicked his eyes away but paused in contemplation. Before he could wholeheartedly decline the idea, Lance's whistling grew louder and both men tensed. Panicking, Shiro inhaled and threw back a hand with a loud clap. He smacked it flat against a nearby scanner, and fortunately, the door to Keith's bedroom whirred open without complaint. Shiro latched onto Keith's forearm, tugging the Red Paladin into the darkness with him.

Keith coughed back a laugh. "My bad—"

Shiro pressed his lips to Keith's, cutting him off.

Keith stopped as if momentarily startled, but he recovered, reaching and entangling a set of fingers into Shiro's tousled bangs. Weakly groaning, he pulled him closer, and Shiro opened his mouth with a searching tongue that Keith instantly met.

The Black Paladin settled his GalraTech hand along Keith's lower back and tried to tilt him using his weight, but Keith pushed back against his chest in refusal. Shiro thought to fight the role change, except Keith's arm encircled his waist and held him still, firm and unyielding in its control. Keith's free hand opened along Shiro's slated navel, and the younger smiled in self-satisfaction when Shiro's muscles retracted.

 _Excited_ , Keith realized. _He's actually excited._

Slowly, Keith slid his hand over the terrain of Shiro's torso. His fingers caught the zipper to his vest, and he leisurely tugged it down, unhurried. Once it was filleted open, Keith's eyes drifted toward Shiro's firm pecs restrained only by a thin layer of Lycra.

Shiro's breathing mounted, pithy and uncertain. Keith reached between them and expertly undid his belt, letting it clink and hang as he jerked the under armor toward his breast line. Shiro set the handcrafted ears on the nearby desk and dropped the vest from his shoulders on into the crooks of his elbows. The vest hit the floor with a whispery thud, and immediately after, he lifted his arms so Keith could tug the shirt overhead.

"Ears," Keith reminded him. He stroked along the trimmed trail lining Shiro's abdominals, fingering poorly healed scars that had barely survived infection.

Shiro glanced at the handmade accessory he'd attempted to pretend didn't exist anymore. He uncertainly reached and scrutinized his own craftsmanship, eying the points of the ears. Shiro took the piece and attempted to offer it to Keith. Keith pushed back with an appraising look.

"Put them on yourself."

Heat fizzled through Shiro's face, and his cheeks prickled hot and uncomfortable. He met Keith's gaze that was boring into him, waiting. What Keith wanted dawned on Shiro, but instead of shoving past him and walking the ten feet across the hall to this room, he remained still.

Shiro didn't look at Keith when he slid the band onto his head.

Satisfied, Keith reached up and scratched his nails along the back of one of Shiro's ears. Shiro's facial scar was all at once amplified by his flushed skin—the new attention somehow causing the senior officer's muscles to unwind. Keith took a step closer and used his other hand to scratch both sides of his head. Shiro's demeanor shifted, and when Keith dragged his hands down both sides of his neck, Shiro chewed back a moan.

"Tell me what kitties want," Keith murmured against his defined jawline. He kissed the patch of flesh and dragged his mouth downward, searching for the hollow of his throat.

Shiro shook his head, trying not to let his mind wander. Keith's traveling mouth turned into a series of wet sucks and the kind of bites that made Shiro's lungs stutter. "I don't know."

"Let me give you a hint."

Keith brought his index and middle fingers to Shiro's mouth and traced his Cupid's bow. Shiro habitually kissed the fingertips, but before he could find soft comfort in it, Keith slid the digits between his lips. Shiro faltered—eyes fluttering shut—but he yielded by wrapping his lips around Keith's knuckles and pushing his head forward. He slowly withdrew, enjoying the salty taste of skin that still carried remnants of minty toothpaste. He leaned in again.

Shiro took Keith's fingers down his throat with a hum that dared to sound grateful.

"Any ideas?" Keith prompted.

The tip of Shiro's tongue flicked between the two fingers, running along the slit. He pulled off with a lazy pop and licked Keith's fingers once more before he stopped himself. Lips dew-covered and catching the dusky blue light, Shiro steadied his breathing and opened his eyes. The half-lidded gaze pooled heat into Keith's stomach.

Shiro managed a single word.

"Milk."

"There we go."

The Black Paladin sank to his knees. He reached out with versed hands, eager to please Keith anyway he'd be allowed, but Keith swiftly captured Shiro's wrists. Keith watched the man flex his fingers in defeat, his eyes going from heavy and unsure to lit and offended.

"You need your tail and collar."

"We don't have a collar," Shiro said, voice airy from hitched breathing. He _almost_ sounded disappointed. "Or a tail."

Keith lifted a finger and then gingerly ruffled Shiro's bangs. "Stay."

He strode across the room to a trunk and knelt down, entering the code that'd lift the lid. Once he gained access, he flipped it open and rifled through the unsorted belongings. It took him a moment, but he found what he was looking for and plucked both items from the container. As he examined them, he heard subtle shuffling, but it wasn't coming closer or leaving. Keith didn't bother to look.

"You could say crafting's become a hobby."

"This isn't what Coran had in mind when he found us those supplies."

"It benefits my psyche."

Keith turned, but he paused at what was there to greet him.

Shiro had finished stripping. Seated on his feet with his clothing tossed to the side, he was entirely exposed. Shiro slid his hand from his smooth chest on down to a trellis of battle-sculpted abs. There he pushed his fingers through his happy trail and reached for the root of his cock that was stiffening right before Keith's eyes. Shiro curled his fingers around the length and stroked it from base to tip, curving his palm along the tip for extra stimulation.

His senses eventually returned to him, and Keith lifted both the collar and tail he'd made. The collar was minimalist and black, but the single vertical line it had for decoration glowed a soft purple. He shook it, and when it rang like a bell, he shrugged in spite of himself. On the other hand, the tail seemed mostly inconspicuous, even commercial. Also minimalist and black, it was long and silky, but Keith's palm was holding the more insidious end. In his hand was the purple plug he'd spent an afternoon designing in the lab and printing via the armor restoration machine.

Keith snapped open the collar. Shiro's eyes widened, but he didn't resist when Keith clamped it around his throat. Rather, he had the slightest moment where he wondered if it looked good.

"Keith—"

Keith ran his fingers along the underside of Shiro's chin, and he noted how Shiro's fingers clenched in self-control. "Is that what you should be calling me, kitty?"

Shiro dug his canine into his tongue. The final floorboard of pride collapsed, and he pressed his face to Keith's hand. He kissed the heel of his palm.

"Master."

Keith kneeled down on the floor with Shiro, reaching beneath his bed for the medical grade healing salve each Paladin kept in their room. He set down the tail and untwisted the cap. Shiro's length twitched between them, and he continued to do his best not to touch himself.

"Is my kitty hungry?"

Shiro nodded.

"Let's finish making you pretty. Bend over for me," he said, stern but gentle enough to keep Shiro calm. As Shiro did as told, Keith dipped his fingers into the clear salve and guided Shiro in front of him with a gentle pet along the back of his steeled thigh.

With every move, the bell sound effect rang.

Shiro crawled over with his shoulders flexed back, eventually settling on his forearms with an inhale. He pressed his forehead against the cool floor, and Keith pushed a palm up the nodules of the man's curved spine. His scarred flesh rippled along his ribs, but Keith soothingly dragged his hand back down. When Shiro seemed relaxed, he coiled his fingers along his piercing hip.

Keith jerked his arm back, and Shiro obediently rose to all fours.

"Good kitty."

Using a single hand, he spread Shiro and took a moment to admire him as if a piece put on display. Clearly tight, Keith deliberately glided his lubed fingers along the other's hole, going as far as to simultaneously massage his perineum with a firm thumb. Shiro tensed and then parted his knees, offering even more of himself up to Keith with the slightest downward arch. Though he couldn't bring himself to say it, Shiro reverberated with the want to be excused from every ounce of control he carried with him on the day-to-day. All he wanted was to be good for his Master. The desire crept through his skin and licked its tongue along the back of his neck, leaving him hot and ready.

Keith pressed a finger inside Shiro, and Shiro instantly parted his lips to formulate a weak groan that dissolved into an effortless mewl. He hung his head, sharply inhaling as he lowered himself onto a forearm again. Shiro reached back and slid a hand over a side of his ass to keep himself spread, on the verge of begging for more.

Keith extracted the finger to its tip as if testing the waters. When Shiro shivered and shifted himself back, he thrust it forward, pulling out and reentering him again and again. Keith swiftly added a second finger.

"Do you like that?"

"God, yeah. _Yes_."

Shiro uttered a moan, but instead of sounding meek, Keith heard the masked satisfaction. The smile was laced throughout the sound, but Shiro hid it better when the third finger followed.

"Touch yourself, kitty," Keith murmured. "I know you want to. You're starting to leak all over the floor. You're making a mess..."

"I'm s—sorry," Shiro managed and he rocked his hips against Keith's hand. He tried not to make it obvious, but he was silently pleading for a fuck. "I want milk."

Shiro buckled when Keith reached and hooked for his prostate, brushing it just enough for the man to cry out.

"Touch yourself."

"Y—yes, Master…"

Shiro reached beneath himself and grabbed his hanging cock. He started to gratuitously pump himself, keeping it slow even when Keith removed his fingers and picked up the plug.

He lifted his head when Keith pressed the plug to him and applied pressure, gliding the smoothly polished plug through his relaxed muscles. The ring threatened to tense, but Keith petted along his side, keeping Shiro's body at ease.

It entered with the slightest resistance; a sting that forced his breathing to tersely leave through gritted teeth. At the jarring throb of flesh giving way, Shiro let himself go. The stretch was immediate, rushing through him and giving off the full sensation he'd been anticipating.

"Do you like your tail?" Keith asked, and he smoothed his hands along Shiro's thighs as he admired his work. He was perfectly clenching at the hilt, the widest part of the plug's radius snugly fit.

Shiro nodded, eyes glazed as he adjusted to both how good it felt and how much he'd been craving this attention from anyone, but especially, Keith.

"A lot," he breathed and slid his hands forward, the curve in his back something Keith couldn't help but pet along. "Thank you, Master."

"Come here."

Keith rose to his feet and sat down on the end of his built-in bed. Shiro thought to follow him by walking, but he crawled instead, enjoying the ache of hard floors digging into his knees. Shiro reached Keith's feet, but he didn't climb onto the bed. He nudged his head forward, brushing his nose against Keith's knee, and moved in between the Red Paladin's thighs.

Shiro reached with tentative fingers, noticing how Keith gripped the edge of the mattress before sliding a hand along Shiro's thick bicep. He opened Keith's belt and promptly shoved up the hem of his shirt. There he licked, dragging is tongue along the muscle definition directly above the waistband of the joggers Keith had tugged on after his evening shower. Shiro kissed down toward the drawstring and pressed his nose to Keith's growing bulge. He inhaled, softly moaning in approval, and Keith petted along the back of his head.

Shiro undid the drawstring and tugged the joggers down with Keith's briefs, forcing Keith to lift his hips. Keith glanced at the door and wondered if he'd remembered to lock it. The drifting thought didn't linger when his cock was released, then sitting before Shiro rigid and aching.

"Master, can I have my milk now?"

Keith lightly dragged his nails down to pluck along the glowing collar. "Kitty can have his milk now."

With permission, there wasn't much stopping Shiro. He encircled his fist around the base of Keith's cock and pressed his lips to the side of his crown, splitting his lips with his tongue and dragging the tip down the thick vein along its underside. Shiro's panting cracked into hitched breathing, and he attempted to refrain from stroking himself again, his free hand planted firmly on the floor in front of him.

Keith pushed back his own bangs and leaned on a hand. He muttered a weak 'fuck' and shifted his hips. Shiro savored the response and kissed the velvet skin that connected Keith's balls to the underneath of his cock. From there, he licked back to the slit and rubbed his bottom lip along the heart-shaped groove of his cockhead. At the first release of pre-cum, Shiro shuddered and lapped it up, losing himself in the delicate brininess.

"Come on, kitty," Keith breathed, digging his heel into the floor. "Get your milk."

Shiro snapped his gaze to Keith's face and breathed out, slightly smiling to himself. He removed the look from his face before Keith could see. Taking in a deep breath, Shiro enveloped the head with his full lips and bobbed downward, enjoying the way Keith's girth opened his throat, spread it wide until he gagged. The reflexive sensation gave Shiro a rush, but it was the way Keith's breathing lifted, his shoulders simultaneously rolling back, that made Shiro want more.

"Such a good kitty," Keith murmured, voice striking sandpaper.

His thighs tensed, and when Shiro's spit gratuitously ran down his length, he shifted his feet. Shiro tightened his fist around Keith and used the saliva as lubricant for shallow jerking, knocking the breath from Keith with every upward tug.

Keith shifted back but didn't lie down. He continued to hold Shiro's head, trying his hardest not to thrust and put Shiro off. _Trying_ was the word. Keith gripped a little tighter and languidly rolled his hips forward. Shiro's wet throat spasmed, and when he choked, he lowered his head as far as he could, tongue flat and nose pressing into a crop of dark hair.

"O-oh, fuck." Keith's hips jolted. He curled his toes, and Shiro steadied him by holding tight to one side of his waist.

"Mmn." Shiro hummed and shifted his weight. His balls suddenly felt heavy, and he wondered if he'd be able to cum without being touched. 

Shiro hollowed his cheeks and tightened his lips at the hilt. He leisurely dragged his mouth toward the end of his cock and only paused to carefully pull at Keith's foreskin with his lips. From there, he continued with the same agonizing pace when he returned his nose to Keith's pubic hair.

A familiar fire fragmented Keith, the scorching sensation forcing his taut balls to cling to his body. Keith kneaded the bedding and guided Shiro's head back and forth while his groans circled the bedroom. They escalated in volume and dissolved into tattered exclamations Keith demanded himself not to utter. He furrowed his brow and fought the hormones coaxing him to release, but he wasn't that strong. He needed to feed Shiro.

"Gonna come," he announced through torn gasping. "Shit, shit..."

Shiro's bionic arm reached out and firmly held Keith down as he pushed as much of Keith as he could fit down his throat. Keith clamped down onto Shiro's broad shoulders and curled over him, growing rigid and suddenly shuddering as the orgasm tore itself from him.

The release shot against the back of Shiro's throat in burning jets, thick and quick to coat the top of his tongue. Shiro endured it and lazily wrapped his arms around Keith's waist, waiting for him to finish pumping his load. He drew back his mouth with sealed lips, and only when he was about to pull off the tip did he swallow with a rolling Adam's apple.

Shiro opened his mouth, and Keith glanced down. The soft film on Shiro's bottom lip looked like a glaze, and Keith leaned down to kiss it clean.

"Thank you, Master," Shiro said when Keith had remedied the mess. Still catching his breath, he pressed his forehead against the inside of Keith's thigh.

He decided to ignore the ache between his thighs, the unappeased hard on causing an impossible pulse that threatened to sincerely hurt.

Shiro only wanted to make his Master happy.  
  


**iii.**

"Good to know that's where Pidge and Hunk's engineering lessons are going," Shiro said.

They were lying in bed, Keith then naked and gazing at the ceiling in a post-coital smog. He reached and rubbed at his temples only to laugh at himself.

"Yeah," he said and shrugged. "Whatever."

"I want the specs," Shiro said and clamped it shut only to reopen it. He inspected the purple lighting and slid his thumb along its glowing line.

"What're you going to do with the specs?

"I want a red one."


End file.
